Michigan Vamp

My Old License Plate

Eccentric Night Owl

Quote from Blood Read

"An ambiguously coded figure, a source of both erotic anxiety and corrupt desire, the literary vampire is one of the most powerful archetypes bequeathed to us from the imagination of the nineteenth century."~ page 2 introduction to Blood Read: The Vampire as Metaphor in Contemporary Culture

Intellectual Vampire Quote

"If the vampire is an other, he or she was always a figure in whom one could find one's self...the despicable as well as the defiant, the shameful as well as the unashamed, the loathing of oddness as well as pride in it."~ Richard Dyer

If they can solve the puzzle that is Sarah, she may double her pleasure.

Damon and Jared Bentley seem to have it all—wealth, standing, and ownership of an elite BDSM club. But since they lost the woman they loved, none of life’s pleasures have been as sweet. Until they meet Sarah.

Underneath her polite veneer, ink, and scars, Sarah Evans hides her pain and damaged soul. She strives to remain an enigma to the Bentleys for fear her secrets could destroy them. But the brothers know they’ve finally found the sub they’ve been longing for…and they won’t give up until they claim Sarah for their own.

Short Excerpt:

Damon Bentley
checked his watch after he set a tall glass of beer in front of a customer. His
brother and co-club owner, Jared, caught his eye from across the room. Jared
shook his head in warning, but Damon had never really been the careful Bentley
brother. He didn’t plan his next moves, or bother with a game plan.

Although he
didn’t possess his brother’s polished looks or manners, Damon saw what he
wanted. Took what he wanted. Period.

Right on cue,
Sarah Evans walked into the club’s private lounge. Her tense leather-clad
shoulders relaxed at the club’s familiar atmosphere. Her eyes looked less
guarded compared to the rare moments Damon spotted her outside the club from
the security feed in the parking lot.

A tempting smile
settled on her generous lips—an open invitation to any top she wanted to play.

Young and jaded,
damaged and mysterious, Sarah cast a pretty picture.

Entry into the
Lance, the exclusive BDSM club owned and run by a group of self-made entrepreneurs
and billionaires—including the Bentley brothers and two other friends and
shareholders—was by invitation only.

Legally, Sarah
checked out. She had references from Bobby and James, a couple and long-time
patrons of Lance, but something felt off about Sarah the moment Damon and Jared
first saw her. Those eyes looked far too haunted for her young body—jaded,
wary, and watchful. Sarah reminded Damon of an animal that had been injured
before and was reluctant to trust again.

Was Sarah Evans
even her real name, or a pseudonym she used? If she had secrets, Damon had
every intention of unearthing them over time.

Most of the tops
who had done public scenes with her over the past weeks confirmed Damon’s
suspicions. Her age made her practically a kid by community standards, but she
was no virgin, not a wide-eyed sub new to the scene. Mere observation made it
hard to narrow down what kind of play she favored.

The first time
she came to the club, she let Bobby and James top her in a public, but for a
low-key rigging scene. For her second visit, Sarah went with Mistress Jane, a
Domme in Bobby and James’ circle, and took a number of hard implements in an
intense scene most new subs wouldn’t do—her stamina impressive. An enigma with
a hundred complicated layers Damon and Jared couldn’t wait to peel away.

“What will it
be?” Damon asked, feigning indifference as she found a seat on the bar. On the
way to him, Damon noted she had already politely refused two offers.

“The usual,
please.”

“You got to give
me more than that, sweetheart.”

This time, one
dark eyebrow rose. Damon, in fact, knew her usual. She ordered the same thing
over the past few weeks, or had tops pay for her drink. Damon had to admit
Sarah knew how to play her cards. How to look at tops underneath lowered
lashes, to appear vulnerable and desirable, and to speak softly, while
occasionally biting down on her lower lip. A woman who knew the power of the
illusion she cast. Whoever trained her, trained her well, but Damon saw right
through the second skin she wore.

“Guinness,
please.” Please.

Damon found
himself intrigued by her manners. How at odds it was with her outside
appearance—tight skinny jeans, boots, worn leather jacket, piercings, and ink.

Her attention
moved elsewhere again, eyeing the other people in the lounge while she drummed
her fingers on the counter. Bobby and James usually hovered protectively by
Sarah, acting as backup, but tonight, Damon noticed Sarah came alone. Perfect.

About the Author:

Angelique Voisen is a bisexual, twenty-something, type-2 diabetic and multi-pubbed writer who favors LGBT and menage pairings. She likes experimenting with different sub-genres and her stories may include cogs, fangs, space battles, kinky magic systems and happily-ever-afters. When Angel’s not writing, she’s gaming, watching B-rate action movies, or enjoying teatime with friends while enviously eyeing their cake.